


Fallen Star, Ill-Fated Star

by Ramzes



Series: Night So Dark and Star So Pale [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-02-03 10:37:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12746628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ramzes/pseuds/Ramzes
Summary: Somehow, for some reason, he had trusted that Elia would keep him abreast with the news that was important to him, even in the battlefield that she had turned their bedding in. He had thought that her demons were the enemy. Somewhere down the road, he had stopped believing that it was truly him.





	Fallen Star, Ill-Fated Star

The new replacement arrived in one of the days that made Arthur wonder if it was still winter, or spring was making its furtive arrival.  And there was no warning – even for the Lord Commander as it became clear when his squire came running in to inform Arthur and Jaime that they were needed in the Round Room before rushing out to look for his master and Brynden Tully – Elia had been forced to accept a rebel on the Kingsguard, after all, with Jonothor succumbing to his injuries after a short rallying that had given them hope. But by now, Arthur had lost interest in the matter. Whoever the man was, he would put up with him. He had learned to get along with the Reachman and the stormslander, had he not?

When he heard the voice – the accent, - he realized just how wrong he had been in his expectations. Somehow, it had never occurred to him that Elia would…

“This is Ser Mors Blackmont,” the White Bull introduced him and in the flurry of questions that followed, Arthur’s silence did not surprise anyone.

“Did you know Prince Lewyn?” Jaime asked, his eyes alight with the sudden addition of someone not far from his own age to their brotherhood.

“You can say so,” the boy replied. “I was his squire a few years back. He was the only man I know who was equally skilled in all arms.”

Had this been meant as a rock in Arthur’s garden? He wasn’t sure. But he knew it was true, so he nodded. “He was,” he said. _And I was,_ he added mentally. _I was his squire as well._ Prince Lewyn had said that he could not see how he could take anyone else, that after Arthur, everyone else would be a disappointment. Instead, Arthur had ended up the disappointed one, as if this boy had displaced him.

“Blackmont,” Ser Barristan said. “The black vulture?”

The boy nodded, the sunlight dancing in his brown hair. Arthur could see the rest of them trying to make sense of him. He did not look much like what the Young Dragon had called stony Dornish, although he was one. “My sister is the Lady of Blackmont,” he said. “And the Voice of Sunspear in the Red Mountains as well,” he finished with visible pride.

“How impressive,” Ser Oswell murmured.

Arthur was impressed indeed, albeit not in the same way. “Since when has Lady Larra been the Voice of Sunspear?” he demanded. “This is my brother.”

Finally, Mors looked at him and something unfathomable glittered in his eyes and died in less than a heartbeat. “Not anymore, he isn’t. Since he proved that his critical thinking skills were lacking.”

“My, are they lacking!” Arthur snapped. “What has been going on behind my back?”

Mors was staring at him, wide-eyed, stunned into temporary speechlessness. Arthur had barely started to realize how ridiculous he sounded when Oswell beat him into it. “Well, we weren’t exactly open for communication…”

It was easy for Oswell to talk! As to Ser Gerold and Barristan, they probably thought that the Dornishwoman had gotten her just desserts. He felt the precipice separating him from his sworn brothers. All of them. And of course, he could not tell them that he did not mean his time in Rhaegar’s tower of joy alone. Somehow, for some reason, he had trusted that Elia would keep him abreast with the news that was important to him, even in the battlefield that she had turned their bedding in. He had thought that her demons were the enemy. Somewhere down the road, he had stopped believing that it was truly _him_.

“Is it true? He has deprived Arel from the title?” he asked Elia in the same night because he had no one else to ask. He did not dare approach his brother, Lady Larra was both Elia’s friend and his brother’s bedmate – or was she still? When she had been granted the title taken from him? – and he knew better than ask Prince Doran. In the few months after his arrival, the lord of Dorne had been unfailingly, glacially polite to him and some of his retinue followed his lead. The others glared openly. He did not dare make suppositions which group Arel, Larra, and Lord Trebor would ally with but he knew that open arms were not an option.

Elia did not answer at once and as she kept her silence, he took stock of his losses coolly, with the practical mind that he would build a camp with. He had lost his sworn brothers. He had lost his childhood friends. The very fact that Ashara had not come with Arel showed that he had lost her as well. He only had Elia. Elia, with her thrust for revenge. Elia who would not bed him out of lust, although she at least no longer told him to leave when she felt perilously close to let her affection return. The only human being who loved and accepted him as he was… kind of. Sometimes. Oh, he was turning as pathetic as her.

“So?” he urged when her answer got delayed all too long.

“Yes,” she finally said. “He has.”

Arthur’s hiss of breath was so sharp that the only candle at their bedside almost died out. “Because of me?”

“Because when they were trying to figure out where you might have taken her, it never occurred to him to think of that blasted tower.”

“It never occurred to any of the others either!” Arthur protested.

“Their last name wasn’t Dayne,” she replied weary. “Doran didn’t do it to punish him, Arthur. He just couldn’t trust his judgment anymore. If you remember, it was a hard competition for the title when your father died. Arel won only by little, the ideas he presented just a tad better than Larra’s, both surpassing these of older, experienced leaders. It’s only natural for her to be the next choice when he showed that he was unable to fulfill his duties.”

“To hell was he unable! This was Oberyn’s idea, wasn’t it? Was he thinking he was avenging you, or something? Was he not bold enough to take his problem with me to me? I settle my own accounts, and no one else.”

He was settling Rhaegar’s accounts right now as well, was he not? Why not his own? Instead, the princes of Dorne had gone beyond his back, striking a blow where it hurt most.

For a moment, he thought she would give up and snap back, spit an explanation full of malice but she got herself under control. “Think what you want,” she said coldly.

“Is he still with Larra?” he asked because he wanted it to be so. Everyone in Dorne knew that Lady Dayne no longer cared to admit her husband to her bed after a string of miscarriages. What was known to less was that Larra Blackmont had filled the spot.

Suddenly, Elia giggled; stunned, he realized that her merriment was sincere. “What?”

“I wonder what Rhaegar would have said if he could have heard you,” she said. “You sound so hopegful! You know, he intended to have a talk with you over your brother’s _inappropriate behavior_. When we were visiting in Dorne, he was so shocked to hear that their relationship was lasting. _But she’s like a second wife or something_ , I believe were his exact words. _Does he not care about his lady wife at all?_ ”

Arthur’s own lips twitched because the irony could not be denied… and because he was so delighted that without knowing it, Elia had regained her habit to laugh at herself. “He didn’t talk to me about it,” he said.

“Of course he didn’t. I gave him an earful of my own thoughts, mentioning Harrenhal and all. I don’t allow anyone to speak poorly of Larra,” she said simply. “She’s my friend.”

Arthur’s amusement died the moment he realized that Rhaegar’s abandonment of the decision to talk to him about his brother’s sinful ways meant. He had always thought that Rhaegar was unaware of other people’s deeper feelings but in this case, Rhaegar had figured out that Arthur would be even less pleased than Elia. _“He wanted to make up for the insult. He thought he was doing me a favour, giving me something a lewd Dornishwoman would accept gladly,”_ Elia had said. _“And besides, this way he could be sure I wouldn’t find anyone else in misguided retaliation. I could even endanger the child, he said.”_ Of course a Dornishwoman would treat her wounded pride with a wild coupling, even endangering the child that she was carrying. Was everything Rhaegar had told him a lie? Or rather, had he lied by not telling Arthur what he felt? Had he thought that Arthur was better than the rest of them lewd, uncaring Dornishmen? Arthur had thought that the Prince liked Lewyn and Elia’s entourage. Had everything been a mask hiding his disdain in order to win their allegiance?

She reached out with suddenly eager arms. Arthur had rarely felt less like making love but he obeyed.

After all, he had a princess to save.

 

* * *

 

 

**The End**

 


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